


Peppermint

by gaycatboycafe



Category: Dream Team - Fandom, Dreamwastaken, GeorgeNotFound - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fanfiction, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 08:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27468313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaycatboycafe/pseuds/gaycatboycafe
Summary: It's almost finals for George, so he decides to sit in his favorite coffee shop to get some homework and studying done. Due to lack of space, he sits at a table with a tall, dirty blond, green-eyed stranger.[ON HOLD]
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 139





	1. room-temperature hot chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> new story !! I had a cute idea that I wanted to execute, but I haven't written fanfiction in years! i hope you enjoy!

A thick layer of fluffy clouds covered the sun, looking down on the city with its slight drizzle. The cold air nipped at all those outside, making the Christmas lights that lined the store’s windows all the more enticing. Picking up his pace, George shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His dry winter hands fiddling with his keys, taking in the pretty sights of the overcast day.

He shivered noticeably, having to take his warmed hands out to open the frozen door of the local coffee shop. George had found this little store while going for a walk one day, and even though he isn't a fan of coffee, he entered anyway. He instantly loved the environment and vibe of the whole place, taking on a more modern spin of the classic "coffee shop." One of the walls was covered in a mural, hand painted by an art major at his Uni. Another wall had a big rustic metal sign of their logo, along with an LED light of their name. Tables pushed up against the walls, shoved in to get as much room as possible. A corner near the counter which normally held merchandise, had been replaced by a medium sized Christmas tree, white garland and sparkling red lights wrapped around the pine. The smell of seasonal drinks and warmth wrapped around his head and heated him to his heart, leaving him with a faint smile. George wasn’t alone in his enjoyment of the establishment either, as the place seemed to be as busy as ever. Clicking of keyboard keys, conversation, soft music in the background, all set a perfect study mood. Pulling out his phone, George waited in line behind a few others, already set on what he wanted. He checked the time and figured he could stay for a couple hours. It _had_ been days since he last came, and he had plenty of work to do, so he wanted to stay longer than he normally would.

He waited for a bit, scrolling through his Instagram feed to see what his friends from highschool were up to. _So many happy couples,_ he thought, wishing he could be in their place. He figured he would mope about his loneliness at a different time.

He watched the middle-aged woman in front of him order, but he tuned out her voice. He could tell from the barista's face that the order wasn't exactly simple. He finally took his last step in line, reaching the register.

“Hi, welcome in! What can I get for you today?” asked the barista, making eye contact with George and smiling fakely. The eye contact made him slightly nervous, causing him to look at the menu like his order wasn’t decided already.

George looked back at the barista, a young girl who appeared to be around his age. He smiled back, “I’ll just get a medium peppermint hot chocolate, please. With whipped cream, too.”

“Got it, love.” She said calmly, raising her voice to be heard over the noise. “And a name for your order?” Her lips fell to a more genuine smile, holding the cup in her hand while waiting for a response.

“George.” He blankly said, busying himself with his wallet to avoid eye contact again. After paying for his drink, he stepped away from the counter, scanning the small inside area for an open seat. George liked sitting at a table alone, but due to the cramped arrangements, he crossed that off as an option.

He spotted an almost empty, four person table, occupied by a tall, dirty blond guy. He looked like a student around George’s age, stress evident on his freckled face as he stared at his laptop; eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. George noticed a heavy sigh escape as the blonde’s face fell, bringing his drink to his mouth. George walked over, awkwardly looking at the ground to avoid eye contact before he got there.

“Uhm..” George squeaked out, meeting the confused eyes of the man. They were yellow-ish to him, but George assumed they were green. “Do you mind if I sit here?” He looked at the seat and gestured towards it with his hand. He met the green eyes once more, teetering on his feet while he waited for a response.

The stranger shook his head quickly, going back to, what George figured was, studying. If they went to the same university, then it meant studying for finals. From the look of it, he would say most of the occupants of this cafe were students. George let his gaze travel around the store, taking in the faces and clothing of people around him. He wondered what they were drinking. After realizing he had yet to take his seat, he pulled out the chair and sat down. Grabbing out a laptop to work on homework for one of his classes.

Soon after he logs on, George finds his eyes trailing to look back at the blond diagonal from him. He wore a weird yellow hoodie with a (faux) fur insulated jean jacket on top. It was littered with pins, but George couldn’t make out what they were. He followed the jacket sleeve down to the stranger’s hands, watching the tanned skin as he typed. The cuffs of the bright hoodie poked out from under the worn blue jacket, hugging his wrists. The stranger seemed to have every key memorized, quickly typing with little mistakes. He rarely used the back button and never looked down to his hands. George noticed a scar on his right knuckle, skin pale and healed. He also noted the small freckles that were scattered across the top. George brought his gaze back up to his face, eyes grazing every single freckle on the other's face. George wondered if he had the same freckles dotted on his arms, currently being hidden by many layers. He traced his jaw line, seeing a slight stubble on his chin. Lips slightly parted and chapped, but still pink and soft-looking. Hair falling into his face, obvious that he had not gotten a haircut recently. The slight waves washing over his forehead and down over his ears, showing only earlobes, which were still tinted pink from the cold. George looked back at his long eyelashes when the stranger's head turned slightly, making eye contact with him. His eyebrow quirked and his mouth formed a slight smile. George flushed deeply, opening his mouth to say something when he heard a distant, “Hot Chocolate for George?”

George pulled his lips into a thin smile as he sheepishly looked away, making eye contact with the barista. He stood abruptly, walking back to the counter to accept his drink. He mumbled a small “thank you” before shuffling back to his seat. Too embarrassed to say anything to the stranger after he was caught staring, he decided to go back to his homework. He popped his earbuds into his ears and played his favorite playlist.

_When hot chocolate gets cold, is it called cold chocolate? Or chocolate milk? If the hot chocolate is made with water, would it just be cold chocolate water? What about room temperature hot chocolate? Warm chocolate? Room-temp chocolate? Warm chocolate milk?_

As George pondered the real questions of the universe, he took a sip of his now room-temperature hot chocolate and sighed gently. He glanced out the door to see the sun shining right through the glass, indicating he had been there for an hour or so. He smiled to himself as his eyes traveled back to his computer screen, but not before stopping to look at the stranger again. George found his looks to be… intriguing, to say at the least. The green eyed man yawned and closed his laptop with half lidded eyes, slowly packing up the rest of his stuff. He stood up and made eye contact with George, smiling gently. He walked away from the table with long, confident strides towards the exit.

Not long after, George decided it was his turn to pack up. He had just finished his drink and got a few assignments done, so he figured he’d head home as well. He shoved his laptop into his bag haphazardly, zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. He grabbed his empty cup and tossed it into the trash as he headed out the door, the little bell ringing to signal his department. The drizzle had stopped but the clouds stayed. He looked up at the now setting sun, disappointed that the light was fading when it was barely 5 o’ clock. He normally likes sunsets, but the overcast gray sky changed his opinion about today’s. George sauntered back to his flat, thinking about the little pins that decorated the stranger’s worn jean jacket. He could tell that the blond had owned the jacket for years, collecting pins from travels. George found himself wondering what they all said. The stories behind them, why the stranger started collecting them. Then he thought about his freckles, and how they probably darkened in the sun. He guessed where on his arms he would have more freckles, and if he would have more scars like on his hand. George found himself wanting to get to know him, yet he didn't know why.

George hoped the smiley, green-eyed stranger would return tomorrow.


	2. christmas cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about not sticking to the bi-weekly schedule i suggested, i think mondays will be my upload days :] hope you enjoy tho!!
> 
> (also i didnt reread this one much so there might be mistakes)

Waking up this morning was hard. Having to be up and getting ready before the sun even rose was already difficult enough, but George found himself not being able to sleep last night. After his nightly routine, he laid in bed at 10:45pm. Early for him actually, but he had overworked himself on school assignments and felt the weight of the day follow him to bed. And as George lay there, no sound but the heater running, the little beeps of his fridge that sat across the house, the occasional pitter patter of his cat’s paws on the floor boards, and the drips of the shower faucet. Thoughts running cross-country in his head, but all with no real meaning. Just his own consciousness trying to fill the void in his brain. He was used to the silence, but he hated it all the same. 

He was tired. He was so exhausted, but sleep was refusing to arrive. George hated dwelling on thoughts like this, it reminded him of high school. When he would just lay in bed and not be able to move, so paralyzed by his weighted thinking. Words of inadequacy and hatred filled his TV-static brain so often it felt comfortable. Self-doubt was a blanket for him, always providing a home for an empty head. So here he was again, after years of training himself to think positively, crawling back under the covers like it was storming out. 

After what felt like hours of memorizing the ceiling in the dark, George’s alarm woke him. He sighed as he grabbed his phone to turn off the annoying music. 7 am; sun barely peeking over the horizon, they sky an orange hue. He stretched his arms and legs, yawning obnoxiously loud for no reason other than to giggle at himself. He reluctantly threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He wasn’t a coffee person, but right now, he felt like drinking a whole pot of fresh, black coffee. The things an 8am Tuesday morning class would make you do. George glanced at his cracked bedroom door, making eye contact with his cat.

“Hey, kitty,” He croaked, voice raspy from just waking up. “You hungry?”

The soft meow in response was enough to motivate him into carrying on with the day, walking into the kitchen with a soft smile. After refilling his food and renewing the water, George watched Cat happily prance over to his breakfast and start eating. “Now it’s breakfast time for Gogy…” He spoke to himself, walking into the kitchen to make a bowl of cereal. 

It was times like these when he was glad he lived alone, his flat quiet and understanding of the early morning. George liked being alone, liked eating alone, liked sitting on the couch alone. Free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. It was nice.

  
  


\----

  
  


The same warmth surrounded him as he entered the coffee shop again. Music playing through his headphones, calming him from his long classes he had just sat through. The place was less busy this time, most tables were open. A few couples, people doing work, some just reading by themselves. It was a nice atmosphere, never failing to make George feel at home. It felt like Christmas at his grandparent’s house, waking up early to open presents. Smelling the hot chocolate as it was being made on the stove, the fire roaring on each log, gifts wrapped and addressed from Santa. His whole family watched as he opened his brand new DS, wide smiles pointed at him and his new electronic. He spent the entire drive home playing his new favorite video game, parents talking in the background. He didn’t think he missed it as much as he just realized he did, longing for the taste of his grandma’s christmas cookies.

After going through the ordering process, he waited by the counter for his drink this time, knowing it would be shorter than yesterday. He smiled and thanked the barista for his peppermint hot chocolate, turning to survey the small store for a seat. Gaze landing on a familiar dirty-blond, he took a step in the stranger’s direction. The blond must have noticed eyes on him, as he turned his head and made eye contact with George. He must have recognized him too, giving George a soft, friendly smile before going back to his laptop. It gave him the same warmth as entering his favorite coffee shop, as opening presents on christmas day, as sunbathing on the beach in mid-July. 

He looked away, face turning pink as he finally arrived at the table. He told himself it was because it was cold out, even though he hardly believed it. He didn’t bother asking to sit here today because the stranger’s smile was more than an answer. George wanted to see him do it again, he wanted to know if it was genuine. 

There was less staring today, much to George’s surprise. He got fully distracted by his studying today and didn’t even realize how long he was there. But after noticing it had almost been an hour already, he glanced over to his table-mate.

He had on the same worn jean jacket, but this time it laid over a dark gray long sleeve. The shirt swept down enough to let his collar bones poke out, and George noticed a freckle or two like he had on his hands. The same tan, showing that the stranger had spent a bit of time outside without a shirt. 

He felt uncomfortable eye-ing him like this, but the green-eyed man interested George. He didn’t look like he was from here, but still blended into the rest of the cafe-goers like he belonged. It was like ordering normal fries and seeing a tater tot in the mix. Similar and still welcomed, but didn’t exactly fit in with the rest. And maybe that’s why George liked staring at him, or maybe it was his looks. He was conventionally attractive with nice features that George appreciated. He ignored the latter though, figuring that he just wanted to look like him. 

He had been out all day, so George decided it was time for him to head back home. His head hurt from lack of sleep and he knew his eye bags were visible to everyone that came within 10 feet of him. He sighed, closing his laptop and pushing his hair out of his face. He eventually stuffed the computer into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he stood. George looked back at the stranger, meeting his eyes immediately. He tried his best to emulate the same warm smile, giving a little three finger wave before turning towards the door. 

The exhausted crept up to him as he dragged his feet home, cold nipping at the exposed skin of his face. When he finally made it home, he dropped his bag and plopped face down on the couch. Yawning to himself as his eyelids felt heavy, feeling Cat find a spot in the middle of his back. He drifted off while listening to the loving purr of his cat, ignoring the rest of the world for a moment.

  
  


\----

  
  


The next morning was easier. Waking up on his own time, being able to have sunlight while he ate breakfast, the cold becoming less harsh. This was how most mornings were for him, with late morning and afternoon classes. But he was free Wednesdays, which meant he could really sleep in. He had no plans today, other than grab his daily hot chocolate and maybe binge a new show.

So he decided to do just that, taking his normal path to get his drink. It was sunnier today, barely any clouds. London weather is weird. George watched the tiny clouds as he walked, the care-free vapor floating through the sky. He always wondered what they felt like, imaging the cotton-like texture in his hands. Realistically, he knows it would feel like moist air, but he dreams anyway.

Finally he makes eye contact with the worn bricks of the shop, the large window revealing the activity inside. Fairy lights strung over it, as well as a little glass painting of a Christmas tree. He takes a few more steps to the door, opening and listening to the small chime of a bell. Instead of immediately ordering, he decides to look around.

He notices the dirty blond again, but this time, he’s not alone. Across from him was a very tall, curly haired brunette. He wore a navy blue sweater on top of a collared shirt, the white cuffs poking out by his wrists. He sat there with the blond stranger, both of them seeming to be having a good time. Bright smiles and loud laughs paralleling each other. They seemed like good friends, or maybe something more.

For the first time in a while, the cafe didn’t warm George. He didn’t feel welcome. 

But he knew how silly it was for him to be jealous over a guy he had never talked to. The only thing different then yesterday is the stranger had someone else with him. George felt like his spot was replaced, like he didn’t deserve to sit there anymore. And as ridiculous he knew this was, he couldn’t shake the feeling. 

Maybe it was because he had so little interactions with anyone outside of class anymore that he missed being welcomed. He missed the bliss of sitting in the chair diagonal of the blond stranger, listening to their simultaneous clacking of keyboards. He missed the feeling of walking into the cafe and noticing the blond, smiling at him as he sat in his normal seat. Is he overreacting? Yeah, probably. 

He figures it’d be best for him just to go home and binge a new show like he planned. Overthinking would lead to another night of no-sleep and he just wanted to have an okay day. So he got his drink and looked at the blond one more time. George wanted to give him a smile, just an acknowledgment that he was there, but he never got a look in his direction. So he headed out, the ring of the bell loud in his ears.

The cold felt like a slap in the face, he got used to the temperature inside. He wasn’t used to only being there for 10 minutes, but today it was for the best. The hot chocolate kept his hands warm on the walk home, his mind focusing on the blanket on his couch.

_ Only a few minutes til I can lay on the couch with Cat. Toasty and comfortable.  _

\--

  
  


“Any reason you decided to sit next to me everyday?” The stranger finally spoke. It caught George by surprise, making him freeze on his path to his normal seat. His eyes darted around, finally landing on the dirty blond stranger.

George went through the same routine today, waking up late, feeding Cat, eating cereal and taking a walk to the coffee shop. Staring at the clouds, thinking about life and waiting for Christmas. It was only 3 weeks away and he was frustrated with school.

“Oh,” George managed to say, wide-eyed and confused. “You’re American?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, thought it was,” he lifted his hands from his laptop, gesturing to his clothes. “pretty obvious.” He wore the same weird yellow hoodie, but with no jean jacket over it this time. Dark jeans covered his crossed legs, George barely being able to see. 

“I figured, but I’m not one to make assumptions.” George said as he pulled out his chair, taking a seat. Putting his backpack on the ground next to him, and grabbing out his laptop. He still felt the stranger’s eyes as he looked at the floor.

“But you assumed that I’d let you sit at my table everyday.” George could hear the smug smile in his words.

“H-Hey! I asked!” George stuttered, looking up from the table to bring his eyes back up to the stranger. He put his hands in the air defensively, confused by the sudden sass.

“Yeah, the first time,” He said in between laughs, smiling after he had calmed down. “I’m Clay, by the way.”

“I’m.. George.” He spoke, now feeling under the pressure of making good impressions. He looks at his fingernails, picking at the skin around them and noting that he needs to cut them soon.

“I know.” Clay exhaled, making eye contact with George. He must have noticed George’s confused stare as he continued, “They call out your name with your drink.”

“Oh yeah..” George chuckled nervously, turning his head back to his computer. “I forgot about that.”

“Anyway, you never answered my question.” Clay pressed on, raising his eyebrows in anticipation. 

“Hmm?” George hummed, logging into his computer and pulling up his Google Docs. Fingers hovering idly over the keys while he waited for a response from the now-named stranger.

“Why do you keep sitting next to me? There’s plenty of open seats.”

George felt a growing anxiety in his low stomach.  _ Does he not want me to sit here? If he really minded, he would’ve said something, right? Maybe he’s just curious. Or maybe he likes sitting alone too, and I’ve ruined that. He was probably just being nice the first day because it was crowded, and now he’s annoyed that I kept sitting with him.  _ He looked back up at Clay briefly before answering.

“I dunno…” George looked away, pondering the question he had ignored before. He rested his chin on his hand, sighing and looking out the window to his left. “Feels like an unassigned assigned seat, ya know? Somewhere I know I’m allowed to sit.”

“Yeah I get that. I mean I sit in the same place every day too.” He chuckled, probably feeling the tension he accidently caused. And as if he was reading George’s mind, Clay added, “I don’t mind, by the way. You sitting here... I mean. It’s nice having some company even if we don’t talk.”

George wanted to respond, but he wasn’t quite sure how. It felt like the end of the conversation, but he desperately wanted to continue it. He felt like asking a stupid question, or asking for his phone number or… anything really. But his nerves were eating away at him, he felt the vultures of anxiety pricking at his skin, gnawing and pulling for any taste of meat they could get. He shallowly gulped, his mouth suddenly dry.

“We could.. Uhm..” George started, not really knowing where he was going with the sentence. But it was too late now, the blond was looking at him curiously, waiting for him to finish. “We could plan to show up at the same time, y’know. Plan to sit together on purpose..”

“Are you asking me on a date?” Clay chuckled wholeheartedly, taking amusement in George’s nerves. 

“No!” George said too quickly, face dusting with pink. “I just think we’d get along well, as friends.”

“I know, I know,” the blond laughed again, “I was just messing with you.” 

George felt his face get darker, distracting himself with his computer. He rolled his eyes to himself, trying to play off his obviously flustered face. He eventually muttered out a little “oh” just to fill the silence.

“Here’s my number. Maybe we should text a little before committing to hang out, I wanna know what I’m getting myself into.” He tore a piece of paper out of a notebook, scribbling something fast, and handed it to George. 

He couldn’t lie, it made him feel special. He felt like he was finally getting along with someone and making a friend after a while. George wasn’t very sociable, to say at the least, so this was a win for him. He inputed the number into his phone and sent a first text.

**George**

Hi :]

**Clay**

hey :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was weirdly unmotivated to write this one but im hoping you cant tell hahah but i'm very excited to write more interactions so that'll boost me!! thank you all for supporting this! it really means a lot <3 
> 
> comments are always appreciated


	3. hiatus time! (i know you all saw it coming)

Hi readers and whoever else this reaches. After a lot of thinking and postponing, I’ve decided to put this fic on an indefinite hiatus. I know it’s already been almost three months since I posted the last chapter (oops), but I wanted to let you know my definite answer. I could list so many reasons why I couldn’t update but I’m gonna be blunt. I don’t like the story. I don’t want to force myself to write something I’m not happy with and I hope you understand that. I’ve put hours into continuing past what is posted yet I never find a result I enjoy.

If you like my writing style or just want to support more of my work, please please read [my other fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682262). It’s getting a second part soon and I truly love the way it turned out. (it's also dnf with king!george and knight!dream)

I hope one day to continue this fic, maybe rewrite it because I adore the idea but I feel like I can’t execute it correctly (yet). Thank you guys for being so patient with me and being wonderful readers. I really mean that. 

follow me on twitter @B1RCHLEAVES if you'd like. I'll post updates and small pieces, but I am also a stan account so I post about live streams, dsmp lore, and other creators outside of Dream Team (still mcyt tho) :)


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